Running Out of Time

Chapter Four

I pushed open the large windows and leaned on my elbows as I took in a breath of fresh air. Outside, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow onto the world, and a welcome chill flooded into the room. Aubrey was still downstairs eating dinner, but I'd merely had a few bites before my meager appetite had faded.

My window faced the south, so I twisted to my right to watch as the fiery ball of golden light sunk below the horizon. I still hadn't gotten around to exploring this section of Boston yet, and my feet itched to go out, but I held back: not yet. I would have to wait until the weekend.

Whenever I thought about Lia, another face flashed into mind. A similar curvy body, with luscious flesh and chocolatey eyes. Kimberly, one of the girls in my class back at Castlebay, had been my first same-sex crush. At the time, I obviously didn't understand what it was. I only understood that I liked Kimberly, thought she was cool, and wanted to be her friend. Kimberly never knew that I had had a crush on her, but looking back a few years later, it had slowly dawned on me that it wasn't so much a platonic, straight friendship as I had thought it was.

After a little research, I had determined that I was pansexual, and suddenly, the weight of a new secret pressed down onto me, and I shoved it into a jar with my other major secrets, one of them being that I absolutely hated dancing and the hours in the studio and that I did not want to go to Victoria Bergen School of Dance. My parents would never know.

I sighed. Pretending was difficult. I had had many same-sex crushes since then, but not one of them had been interested. I'd pondered going to gay bars more than once to satisfy my curiosity, but the ramifications of getting caught always made me get cold feet on the plan.

I'd have to wait until I was independent. That was the only solution. And then I could be as out and proud as I wanted to. That was the major reason that forced me to agree with The Elite Willow Dance Dream, because it offered me a fast track to independence. Otherwise, I would've flipped the bird at it a long time ago.

The sad thing about The Elite Willow Dance Dream was that it was actually feasible. I wasn't the best dancer out there—far from—but I was still very good, and there was no shortage of scholarships being thrown at me, but I knew that my skills were only technique, only powerful jumps and flexibility and turns and poses and the occasional flip, and sometime along the line, I'd be weeded out for my complete lack of artistic ability. I didn't exude confidence the way Lia did. I couldn't make myself look sexy or cute or sassy, and the best thing I could do was dazzle the audience so much with turns and jumps and my strength and hope they'd never notice the hard set of my mouth every time I go onstage.

So far, my three-month experiment of seeing whether or not I could love dance again was failing. The only thing I could think about was the prospect of spending hours alone with Lia, and the many ways in which I could embarrass myself, come out and be rejected, or worse, come out and be betrayed. But then I'd think about that smile, and I'd wonder if she'd ever give one of those real, genuine smiles to me, or ever grace me with the sound of her laughter, and I knew that I'd never know if I didn't give it a shot.

Foolishly, for a moment, I believed that I had a shot at happiness.

***

I raced down the steps with my dance bag in hand. I had almost forgotten that Lia and I were meeting to work on our duet, and then I had wasted precious time debating whether I should approach Lucille and ask for a new partner, or simply just not show up at all. But she and I had class together, so there was no way that I'd be able to avoid her.

I skidded to a halt outside the studio door and rechecked the number written on my paper. Then, I pushed the door open.

Lia looked up at me, stopping in the middle of movement with an almost guilty expression.